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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956810">Love, Interrupted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine'>eternaleponine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love In Inappropriate Places [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coitus Interruptus, F/F, Home for Christmas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:56:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke takes Lexa home with her for the holidays.  It's supposed to be a small family gathering, but when she arrives, there are far more people there than they expected.  Relegated to a makeshift room in the basement, will they ever find the opportunity for a little alone time?</p><p>As ever, thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsAreMyWords/pseuds/DreamsAreMyWords">DreamsAreMyWords</a> for allowing me to use her ridiculous life as inspiration.  😘</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love In Inappropriate Places [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1352764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>183</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Love, Interrupted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"It's funny," Lexa said.  "You never really struck me as the 'grew up in the middle of nowhere' type."</p><p>"Hmm?"  Clarke glanced over at Lexa, then went back to glaring through the windshield.  She couldn't help noticing that Lexa had a white-knuckled grip on the handle of the door, nor could she blame her.  What had started as a few flurries was threatening to turn into a real storm, and Clarke just hoped they reached her childhood home, where her mother still lived, before the snow obscured the lines on the roads that could be treacherous at the best of times.  "Oh.  Yeah."  She shrugged.</p><p>They didn't talk about their pasts much.  They were far more interested in their futures – or future, singular, that they hoped to build together.  Clarke wouldn't have minded discussing her childhood, but she got the impression that the feeling was far from mutual, so they both avoided bringing it up.  The only thing she knew, and then only from vague allusions, was that Lexa had also grown up more-or-less in the middle of nowhere, and as soon as she'd been able, she'd run as far and fast as she could to get out from under the thumb of her oppressive religious upbringing.  </p><p>"My parents were both do-gooders," Clarke said.  "When my mom finished medical school they spent time traveling the world, doing various humanitarian aid projects in areas that had been hit by natural disasters, war, famine, that kind of thing.  Then she got pregnant with me and they decided it was time to settle down.  But they wanted to settle somewhere where they could still do good, so she found a small town that hadn't had its own doctor in decades, and the rest is history."  </p><p>"It's... pretty," Lexa said, not sounding sure she believed it.</p><p>"It is," Clarke agreed.  That was one thing she had to give her hometown.  It <i>was</i> pretty.  Even in the snow.  Maybe especially in the snow... when she didn't have to drive in it.  "It's not much farther," she added, maybe to reassure Lexa, or maybe to reassure herself.  </p><p>Lexa forced a smile and reached over to put her hand on Clarke's leg, giving it a quick, gentle squeeze before letting go.  Under other circumstances, she might have taken the opportunity to tease Clarke, just a little, but as they wound their way up into the mountains, with a wall of rock on one side and a steep drop-off on the other, there was no room for error.  And there would be plenty of time to let themselves get distracted once they arrived, after the obligatory catching up had been taken care of.  After all, it was a long drive and they'd gotten an early start, so it wouldn't be unreasonable for them to want to take a little quote-unquote nap, right?  (Which might end with a nap, after...)  </p><p>Clarke smiled back at her, and then at the sign that had always signaled that they were finally almost home on the rare occasions when she and her parents had gone on vacation growing up.  Half an hour (which should have been fifteen minutes, but the snow was coming down thicker and faster by the moment) later, Clarke eased them into her mother's driveway, feeling the back end of her car fishtail slightly even as she removed her foot completely from the gas as she turned.  There were more cars there than she'd expected, and she felt a knot form in her stomach.  She swallowed her apprehension down and switched off the ignition, leaning back in her seat with a sigh.  </p><p>"I'll drive home," Lexa offered, taking one of Clarke's hands and bringing it to her lips, pressing them against knuckles that ached from gripping the wheel so tight.  </p><p>"We'll see," Clarke said, leaning in for a proper kiss, that led to another, and another, until they were jerked out of the moment by a thump.  Clarke looked up in time to see another snowball hit her window, and two giggling kids with mittens pressed to their faces.  </p><p>For a second she didn't recognize them.  It had been years since she'd seen them in person, and so much of their faces were hidden by hats and scarves that she couldn't immediately connect them to the gap-toothed grins that regularly appeared on her Facebook feed: Reese and Ethan. </p><p>Which meant her cousin Geoff and his wife Tora were here.  That explained one of the cars... but there were two others, and they might belong to Clarke's mom and her husband, but Clarke was pretty sure they kept their cars in the garage.  Which meant...  Clarke didn't know what it meant, except that what her mother had billed as a 'small holiday gathering' had clearly turned into something else.  </p><p>Or maybe it had always been something else and her mother had simply omitted that fact in an effort to get her here.  </p><p>Either way, it was too late to do anything about it now.  She shook her head and rolled her eyes, flashed Lexa a wry smile, and opened her car door just in time to get hit in the face by another snowball.  </p><p>"Oh SHIT!" Ethan said as Clarke sputtered, and started sprinting back toward the house, but he couldn't get far fast because the snow made him slip and slide with every step.  </p><p>"You can't say that!" Reese yelled, chasing after him.  "That's a bad word and you'll get in trouble!"</p><p>Ethan whirled on her.  "Only if you tell!" he said.  </p><p>"Or Aunt Clarke does!" Reese pointed out, her tone slightly smug.</p><p>"She won't," Ethan said, but Clarke could see his wary sidelong glance.  "She's the <i>cool</i> aunt."  </p><p>Technically, she wasn't an aunt at all.  She was a cousin.  Or a second cousin, or a cousin once removed or whatever you called it when your cousins had kids.  They only called her aunt because it was simpler.</p><p>Clarke put her hands on her hips, doing her best to look stern.  "Then you better not give me a reason," she said, then crouched down and held out her arms – and promptly found herself on her ass in the snow as they charged into her and knocked her over.  She laughed as they all went sprawling, and gathered them into a squirming, giggling hug.  </p><p>"Who were you <i>kissing</i>?" Reese asked.  "Is that your <i>girlfriend</i>?"</p><p>"Yes," Clarke said, looking up to where Lexa was watching them, bemused.  "This is my girlfriend, Lexa.  Lexa, these are my—"  She frowned, still not knowing the right word.  "This is Reese and Ethan."  </p><p>"Hi," Lexa said.  "Nice to meet you."</p><p>"Hi," they echoed, pressing closer to Clarke like they were suddenly shy, which was about as far from the truth as it could get.  </p><p>"Now if you don't mind," Clarke said, setting them on their feet and then accepting Lexa's hand to pull herself back up onto her own, "we're going to go inside and get settled."</p><p>"Will you come out and play with us when you're done?" Reese asked.  "<i>Pleeeeeaaase?</i>"</p><p>"We'll see," Clarke said, with a wink that said yes.  The kids grinned and started fighting over whether there was enough snow yet to build a snowman, and Clarke opened the trunk to retrieve their bags, skidding slightly with every step as they made their way to the front door.</p><p>"You made it!" her mother said, wrapping her in a hug as soon as she stepped inside, heedless of the snow that was crusted on her coat.  "I hope the drive wasn't too bad."  Clarke opened her mouth to answer, but her mother had already moved on.  "And you must be Lexa."  Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled.  "It's so good to finally meet you."</p><p>"It's nice to meet you too, Dr. Griffin," Lexa said.  </p><p>"Oh, there's no need for that," her mother said, waving her hand as if to dismiss the title.  "Please, call me Abby."</p><p>"It's nice to meet you... Abby," Lexa amended, and Clarke could see the way her jaw twitched, like it had been a struggle to force the name past her lips.  </p><p>"Why don't you go ahead and take off your shoes and hang up your coats?" Abby suggested.  "We'll figure out where to put your bags later."</p><p>Clarke frowned.  "Can't we just put them in my room?" she asked.  </p><p>Abby grimaced.  "The kids are staying in there," she said.  "It made the most sense since the guest room is right next door.  So they would be near their parents."  </p><p>"Right," Clarke said.  "What about the office?"  It had a couch that could be converted into a bed.  It wasn't the most comfortable thing ever, but it would do for a few days.  </p><p>"I'm sorry," Abby said.  "Your cousin Trina is staying in there."</p><p>"Trina?"  Clarke blinked.  She'd practically forgotten Trina, who had disappeared thirteen years ago, when she was barely sixteen.  She'd run away with her boyfriend no one approved of, and they hadn't heard from her since.  Until now, apparently.  </p><p>Her mother nodded.  "Trust me, I was as surprised as you are when she showed up... with her daughter, Charlotte."</p><p>"She has a <i>daughter</i>?" Clarke asked.  From what she remembered, Trina had barely been able to take care of herself.  Trying to imagine her with a kid was just... mind-boggling.  </p><p>"She's twelve," Abby said.</p><p>"Oh.  That explains..."  </p><p>"Yes," her mother agreed.  "It does."  </p><p>Clarke pushed it to the back of her head – that was a knot future Clarke could unravel – and mentally ran through the floor plan of the house, trying to think of anywhere—  "The room over the garage!" she said.  Her father had started to convert it into a little studio apartment when she was a teenager.  He'd died before it was completed, but her mom and Marcus always talked about finishing it.  Maybe they finally had.</p><p>"My friend Charmaine is staying there," Abby said, her face twisted in apology.  "She's pregnant, due any day now, and the baby's father..."  She trailed off, but Clarke didn't need her to fill in the blank.  </p><p>Clarke held back a sigh.  If she'd known it was going to be this much of a problem just finding them a place to sleep, she wouldn't have come.  When she'd found out that by some miracle she was neither working nor on call for Christmas for the first time since she'd become a doctor, she'd been ecstatic.  She'd started dreaming up all the ways she can Lexa could enjoy the day together.  Then her mother had called, laying the guilt on thick about how long it had been since they'd seen each other, and how excited she was to finally meet the woman who had so quickly and thoroughly stolen her daughter's heart, and Clarke had caved.  </p><p>"We'll figure it out," Lexa said, resting her hand lightly between Clarke's shoulder blades, where she knew Clarke got tense when she was stressed.  "We can just tuck them in that corner there for now."  She pointed, and Abby enthusiastically agreed because it was out of the way enough that not too many people would trip over them, and it meant they would finally move past the entryway.  "It'll be okay," Lexa murmured as they took off their boots, close enough Clarke felt the brush of Lexa's breath on her ear.  It sent goosebumps racing down her arms and a jolt of arousal straight to her core.  She let out a soft growl, scowling at Lexa because from the look on her face, she'd known exactly what she was doing and what it would do to Clarke, and she didn't look even a little bit sorry.  </p><p>The afternoon – what remained of it – flew by.  First there were introductions and catching up with her cousins on all the things they didn't post on social media, hearing a very abridged version of the last thirteen years of Trina's life, and meeting Charlotte, who was a mix of sweet, shy, and surly that only tweens seemed to be able to achieve.  Eight-year-old Reese obviously adored her, and it was equally obvious that Charlotte had no idea what to do with that adoration.  Ethan, at five, didn't seem to care one way or another about anyone in particular, as long as <i>someone</i> was paying attention to him all the time.  </p><p>"It's like he's the star of his own reality show," Lexa whispered.  "If no one's paying attention, does he even exist?"</p><p>Clarke snorted, choking back a laugh, and Ethan glanced at her and grinned, and hammed up his demonstration of how his toy cars could race down the ramp and around the track he'd built right in the middle of the living room floor even more.  </p><p>When dinner time rolled around, Lexa volunteered to help Marcus in the kitchen, which had been declared off-limits to the under 5-foot set.  Clarke thought about following her, but Reese was in the middle of giving her a detailed book report about every book she'd read so far in school, and she didn't want to insult her by not listening... even if the words were going in one ear and out the other as her mind continued to work on the 'where the hell are we going to sleep?' problem.  </p><p>After dinner there was dessert, and a Christmas movie turned up too loud, and squabbles over whether it was <i>really</i> bedtime, and by the time the younger kids had been herded upstairs, Clarke was exhausted even though she'd only been a bystander.  </p><p>Her mother caught her yawning.  "Marcus set up a little space in the basement," she said.  "It's not ideal, but..."  But it was all they had.  Clarke had considered suggesting the kids be moved into the rooms with their parents, but the guest room wasn't very big, and the office was even smaller, and she didn't want to seem selfish, even if it was – or had been – her room they were staying in.  </p><p>"I'm sure it's great," Lexa said.  </p><p>"Great may be a bit of an overstatement," Abby admitted.  "Come on.  I'll show you."  </p><p>They grabbed their bags and followed her mom down the stairs into the basement, which her father had finished before starting the garage room, and where Clarke had spent plenty of time hanging out with her friends when she was a teenager.  She'd even come very close to having sex for the first time down there, but her mother had gotten home from work early – or very, very late – and they'd lost their nerve, afraid she might walk in at any moment.  </p><p>Because there was no lock on the door at the top of the stairs, and nowhere to hide if someone did decide to come down.  </p><p>A quick look around told Clarke not much had changed.  </p><p>An old rollaway bed had been dug out of god knew where and unfolded off in the one corner that had been cleared of stacks upon stacks of boxes and plastic totes.  They had been arranged to form something like walls, but they didn't come anywhere near the ceiling, and there was a giant gap that could – if Clarke was being generous – be called a doorway, but it was really more like an entire wall was missing.  The bed had been made up with sheets and blankets that had probably been living in the back of the linen closet since roughly the beginning of time.  The pillows looked like they had seen better days, too – two of them together was about as thick as one of the ones on their bed at home.  </p><p>"Thanks," Clarke said.  "I think we're going to call it a night."  </p><p>"Of course," her mom said, smiling and hugging them both.  "If you need anything, let me know."  </p><p>"We'll be fine," Clarke said.  She hugged her mom one more time, then watched her climb back up the stairs.  The door clicked shut, and Clarke sank onto the bed with a groan... that wasn't quite as loud as the one let out by the springs that supported the barely there mattress.  "Oh, for fuck's sake," she muttered, and Lexa started to snicker.  "It's not funny!" she said... but it kind of was, and Lexa's laughter was contagious.  </p><p>They got ready for bed, and Clarke was grateful that there was a bathroom – well, a toilet and a sink behind a door, so she guessed that qualified – down here at least, so they didn't have to go upstairs just to pee or brush their teeth.  They settled onto the bed, which Clarke was starting to doubt was even full sized, as there was no space between them as they lay side-by-side, and also no room between her body and the edge of the bed.  The springs creaked every time one of them moved, which was both annoying and hilarious.  Even kissing – in between bursts of laughter and cursing – was enough to make the thing squeak.  That, combined with the near constant tread of footsteps overhead and the length of the day, finally led them to give up and just curl around each other, dropping off more quickly than Clarke would have thought possible given how comfortable the whole arrangement wasn't.</p>
<hr/><p>In the morning, everything was quiet.  Lexa pressed back against Clarke, reaching back to pull her hips closer.  Clarke's soft grumble in her ear drowned out the sounds their bed made, and Lexa felt Clarke's nipples through her shirt as she pressed her breasts into Lexa's back.  Her fingers crept under the hem of Lexa's shirt and quickly dipped below the waistband of her sweatpants.  Lexa rolled her hips, parting her thighs to allow Clarke easy access, swallowing a moan as she deftly parted her, tracing the rising slick heat up to her clit and circling it lazily.  Her breath caught and she twisted her head around, meeting Clarke's waiting lips.  She moved her hand from Clarke's hip up to her head, tangling her fingers in her hair and—</p><p>The stairs creaked, and Clarke yanked her hand out of Lexa's pants so fast the bed squealed in protest on Lexa's behalf.</p><p>"Sorry," Abby whispered.  "Sorry.  I forgot the bacon is in the fridge down here and—"</p><p>"It's fine, Mom," Clarke said.  </p><p>"Sorry," Abby said again.  "I didn't mean to wake you."</p><p>Lexa wasn't sure whether to be relieved Abby thought all she'd interrupted was her sleep.  It was better than the alternative, probably.  That wasn't a conversation – or memory – any of them wanted to have.  They stayed where they were, still as statues twined around each other, and waited for Abby to go back upstairs with another whispered apology as she passed.  </p><p>"That won't be her last trip down here," Clarke said.  "She always forgets at least two ingredients.  It doesn't matter what she's making – even if it only has three ingredients, she somehow forgets two, and only remembers them one at a time."  She rolled her eyes and shifted so Lexa could turn to face her fully, claiming a proper kiss.  She let herself sink into it until the basement door opened again, just as Clarke had predicted.  At that point they gave up and got out of bed, opening their suitcases to decide what to wear for the day.</p><p>Once Abby had once again retreated, Lexa started to change, putting on her favorite jeans – the ones she'd bought when she'd forgotten to pack any in her rush to get to Luna as quickly as possible – and a cashmere sweater Clarke had a very hard time keeping her hands off of.  It was unfair and she knew it, but if she was going to spend the holidays surrounded by far more strangers than she'd been prepared for when she'd been hoping for a quiet day at home with Clarke, she could at least have some fun with it.  </p><p>They went upstairs and helped with breakfast, which was – if it was possible – an even noisier and more chaotic affair than dinner the night before had been.  Milk was spilled and a debate raged over which was better – pancakes or waffles – and Charlotte had become vegetarian overnight, just to piss her mother off from the looks of it.  By the time the dishes were cleared, Lexa felt a headache forming right between her eyes, but she tried to ignore it.  It was Christmas Eve, and there was still so much to do.  There was a tree to decorate and cookies to be made, and snowball fights to be had.  Even if they'd wanted to sneak off, there was no way they could have because there were too many sets of eyes on them and someone would notice and come looking.  </p><p>And it was fine.  Lexa told herself it was fine, because it had to be fine.  It was nice getting to know Clarke's family, and getting to see pictures and hear stories about her when she was growing up.  Thankfully no one asked much about her own childhood, or whether she missed her family, or what her own holiday traditions were, because she was too overwhelmed to have lied effectively, and the truth wasn't anything anyone wanted to hear.  Maybe Clarke, but that could wait for quieter moments, if it ever had to be talked about at all.  She would rather create new traditions and memories than focus on what she'd left behind.  </p><p>She did miss Luna, but after a successful holiday sales season, Luna had decided to treat herself to Christmas on the beach, soaking in the sun and surf rather than dealing with family – hers or anyone else's.  Lexa texted her, asking if she planned to put up lights on a palm tree, and Luna texted back a picture of a very fake sprig of holly affixed to a hollow-out pineapple full of something brightly colored and boozy.  </p><p>Lexa showed it to Clarke, and Clarke grinned.  "Tell her next year, we're packing ourselves in her suitcase."</p><p>"She did ask," Lexa pointed out.</p><p>"I know.  I didn't think I would be able to get the time off."  </p><p>"I know," Lexa said, kissing her lightly, then kissing her again when she saw Charlotte was making a face like she'd just stepped in dog poo.  The second time Charlotte just rolled her eyes, because ugh, adults were so weird and gross and embarrassing.  </p><p>"Next year," Clarke said.  Even though they both knew the likelihood of her getting two Christmases off in a row was between zero and nil.  </p><p>That night they helped put out cookies and milk for Santa on the mantle, and carrots on the porch for his reindeer, and Lexa wondered if maybe some real deer would happen by and take a little nibble to add to the illusion she'd never been part of.  This far into the woods, it certainly seemed possible.  Once the kids were safely tucked in bed, they quickly and quietly helped make the place just a little more Christmas-y for them when they woke up.  The stockings hung in front of the mantle were filled – a long line of them that they weren't allowed to peek at the contents of until morning – and the gifts were arranged under the tree.  Finally the adults headed off to bed, and Clarke and Lexa went downstairs, already shedding clothes as they descended, not wanting to waste a single moment when there was no way to be sure how many they had.  </p><p>Clarke kissed a path from Lexa's throat, down her sternum, and had just begun the last stretch down from her navel when they heard footsteps upstairs, and several thumps and a groan.  Clarke looked up at Lexa, her forehead furrowing.  "Should we..."</p><p>Lexa could feel the heat of Clarke's body everywhere she touched her, and even in places she didn't quite touch, and she wanted her so bad she could taste it – or wanted so bad for Clarke to taste <i>her</i> -- but she sighed.  "Yeah.  Yes."  </p><p>They dragged on their pajamas and made their way upstairs, peeking out from the basement door.  Lexa wished she'd grabbed something, just in case, and wondered if she could make it to the fireplace to grab a poker without being noticed.  But before she could make a move, Abby appeared.  </p><p>"Nothing to worry about," she told them.  "Go back to sleep."</p><p>But a long, loud moan came from the kitchen, belying her words, and Abby was forced to admit,  "Charmaine's in labor.  She's been in labor all day but didn't think it mention it to anyone.  We're heading to the hospital now."  </p><p>"Be careful," Clarke said.  "Drive safe."</p><p>"I will," Abby said.  "I hope I'll be home by the time everyone gets up in the morning.  If not—"</p><p>"We'll take care of things," Clarke assured her.  "Don't worry."  </p><p>"Thank you, sweetheart," Abby said.  She took her face between her hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  "I love you."</p><p>"Love you too, Mom.  Now go.  It doesn't sound like the baby is going to be patient for much longer."  </p><p>Abby glanced over her shoulder at her friend, who was clutching the counter, bent almost double, her entire body seeming to contract around the pain.  "You're not wrong," she said, and went to help her friend to the car.  </p><p>By the time they got downstairs, they were both shivering and the mood had been ruined by worry about whether the roads would be clear and safe to drive on and whether Abby and Charmaine would make it to the hospital in time.  Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke and hugged her close, and eventually they drifted into a doze.  </p><p>They were woken what felt like only minutes later by jubilant shouts of, "Santa came!  Santa came!  MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!"  Lexa glanced at her phone and saw it was 6:01 am, and wondered if the kids had been told they couldn't wake their parents up before six, and had been counting down the seconds until they could burst out of their room and see what had been left under the Christmas tree.  It was far too early, as far as she was concerned – the sun wasn't even thinking about coming up yet – but kids usually woke up at the crack of dawn anyway, didn't they?  </p><p>"I guess we'd better get up," she said.  </p><p>Clarke shook her head, pinning her down.  "Now's our chance," she whispered, rolling on top of her (the springs screeched in protest) and starting to tug her off her shirt.  "While everyone else is distracted..."</p><p>"We promised your mom—"</p><p>Clarke made a sound of frustration that was so primal it almost made Lexa change her mind, but before she could open her mouth again, Clarke had rolled off her and out of bed, grumbling that Lexa was right, and her cousins – the adult ones – probably needed coffee.  A lot of coffee.  </p><p>When they got upstairs they discovered Marcus had beat them to it, but he didn't complain about the extra help getting breakfast together while Reese and Ethan were tearing into their stockings.  Charlotte had curled into one corner of the couch, looking sullen (and Lexa couldn't really blame her, knowing she was sharing a room with the two younger kids, and as a result probably hadn't gotten much sleep).  Abby arrived just as they were sitting down to eat, announcing that Hope Noelle Diyoza had joined the family at 1:46 am, and that mom and baby were both doing well.  </p><p>After breakfast it was presents, and Abby was absolutely thrilled with the set of dishes Clarke had commissioned from Luna for her.  "They're beautiful!" she exclaimed.  "Your friend <i>made</i> these?"</p><p>Lexa nodded.  "She's very talented."  </p><p>"She absolutely is," Abby said.  "These are just exquisite.  We'll use them for dinner tonight."  </p><p>"I'm not sure there are enough for everyone," Clarke admitted.  </p><p>"We'll figure it out," Abby said.  "Please tell your friend that I love them.  Do you have her card?  I'm sure some of my friends will want sets of their own."  </p><p>"I think so," Lexa said.  "I'll look later."</p><p>"Of course," Abby said.  </p><p>Clarke nudged Lexa's shoulder – the gift had been her idea – and Lexa smiled and slipped her fingers through Clarke's, squeezing.  They leaned into each other and watched the kids as they played with their toys.  Even Charlotte was almost smiling.  </p><p>They slipped away after lunch, when the early wake-up was catching up to everyone, and this time they didn't even waste time getting undressed, just burrowed under the blanket on their bed and slid their hands into each other's pants, trying to find a comfortable position, heedless of the rhythmic creaking of the bed underneath them as they buried fingers inside each other, stroking and circling and thrusting and—</p><p>"Are they jumping on the bed?" Ethan hissed.  "It sounds like—"</p><p>Lexa froze, and so did Clarke, not daring to move, or even to breathe.</p><p>"They're not jumping on the bed," Charlotte said.  "They're having <i>sex</i>."</p><p>Reese gasped.  Lexa dared to open her eyes, and she couldn't see the kids, which meant they probably couldn't see them either, and they were under a blanket anyway, but—</p><p>"Okay, but... which one of them has the penis?" Ethan asked.  </p><p>Clarke almost choked, and the sound was enough to startle the kids back up the stairs.  Clarke slowly withdrew her hand from between Lexa's legs, clamping it over her face as she stifled what Lexa hoped was laughter.  </p><p>"It's not funny!" Lexa hissed.  "What if they tell their parents?"</p><p>Clarke snorted.  "Then I guess it'll be time for them to teach Ethan that sex is more than just how babies are made," she said.  </p><p>Lexa groaned.  She hoped – for Clarke's cousins' sake and for their own, because she didn't want to have to deal with the Looks – that the kids would keep their mouths shut.  Ethan was only five; she couldn't imagine what <i>that</i> conversation would be like.  </p><p>They went upstairs not long after, and Charlotte gave them a knowing look and Ethan a curious one, but thankfully he didn't approach them with any questions they wouldn't know how to answer.  The rest of the day was uneventful, but by the time they went to bed Lexa felt like she might spontaneously combust if they didn't find somewhere, some way, to finish what they'd started.</p>
<hr/><p>"Come on," Clarke said.  "We're getting out of here."</p><p>Lexa looked up, her eyes wide, and then over toward the kitchen where Abby was helping the kids with a craft project from one of the kits Reese and Ethan had received.  "I thought—"</p><p>"Not leaving leaving," Clarke said.  "Just... out of this house for a little while.  There's somewhere I want to show you."  <i>Somewhere where no one ever goes.  Somewhere where no one can fucking interrupt us... or interrupt us fucking.</i>  "They won't even notice we're gone."  </p><p>Lexa hesitated, but finally got up and followed her, quickly and quietly putting on her boots and coat.  They slipped out the door, grinning and laughing like they were getting away with something, as if they weren't grown-ass adults with every right to leave the house and go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted.  They climbed into the car and Clarke backed out onto the road, which the sun had finally melted the snow from.  Clarke drove to a park that in the summer would be full of people picnicking and flying kites and going for hikes on the nearby trails, but in the winter was all but abandoned, and parked in the little lot.  She opened her door and Lexa did the same.  When she opened the back door, though, and started to climb in, Lexa hesitated.  "Aren't we...?"</p><p>"This is it," Clarke said.  "We're here.  Now get in."</p><p>It was only then that Lexa really seemed to understand, and she practically tripped over herself scrambling into the back seat, yanking off her gloves and tossing them aside, grabbing at the zipper of Clarke's coat and tugging it down.  It didn't take long to strip each other of the most insulating of their garments and twine themselves together, hands sliding under clothes as they kissed every bit of skin they could get at.  </p><p>They paused only once, to crack the windows just a little so they wouldn't steam up, and so they would hear if anyone was approaching, before falling back into kissing and touching, fighting against the clothing they still wore and the tightness of the space.</p><p>Clarke moaned as Lexa's thigh slid between hers, her hip putting pressure in exactly the right place for Clarke to rock against, making the ache between her legs worse – so much worse – before it would get better.  "You know," she said, sliding her hands under Lexa's sweater and tracing her thumb under the curve of her breast, making her shiver, "I had my first orgasm here."  The first one from someone other than herself, anyway.  She could still remember how he'd fumbled, first over her panties and then inside them, touching her everywhere except where it really counted, until she'd finally gotten frustrated and moved his fingers to exactly where she wanted them, guiding him until he finally caught on.  </p><p>Lexa needed no such guidance.  Her touch was deft and sure as she slicked the pad of her middle finger over Clarke's clit, making her hips buck and her back arch.  "Mine was at church camp," she said, her breath hot against Clarke's cheek.  "Hidden in the boat house.  We didn't even take our bathing suits off... didn't even really touch each other.  Just... rocked against each other until..."  Her cheeks went warm.  "I never saw her again."</p><p>"Well you'll see me again," Clarke promised her.  "You'll see me again, and again, until you're sick—"</p><p>"Never," Lexa said.  "I'll never be sick of seeing you.  Or touching you.  Or tasting you..."</p><p>And before Clarke quite knew what was happening, her pants had been tugged down around her ankles and her knees splayed to either side as Lexa suited deed to word, her tongue flicking over and circling Clarke's clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, so close Clarke could feel her entire body tensing.  All she needed was one more touch, one more lick, one more—</p><p>Lexa pulled back as gravel crunched, too close, and when Clarke looked past her there was another car right beside them, faces pressed to glass, gawking at them – and then quickly turning away when they realized what they were seeing.  "Oh shit," Lexa breathed.  "Oh shit."</p><p>The car kept moving, finally coming to a stop as far away as they could get without exiting the park completely, and people – more people than seemed possible, including several kids – came pouring out.  It wasn't her family, but it might as well have been, and Clarke quickly yanked up her pants, the moment ruined, the mood absolutely destroyed.  </p><p>"This place is cursed," Lexa muttered as she got back into the passenger's seat.  </p><p>Clarke pressed her lips together, fighting a smile.  "Why the hell do you think I left?"</p>
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